


Stansa Stark and The Knights of Old

by sunkelles



Series: Sansaery Week 2019 [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boy Band, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Implied Renly Baratheon/Loras Tyrell, Lesbian Margaery Tyrell, Lesbian Sansa Stark, Minor Sansa Stark/Loras Tyrell - Freeform, Minor Theon Greyjoy/Jeyne Poole, Modern Westeros, Painter Sansa Stark, Sansaery Week 2019, compulsory heterosexuality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-09-22 23:34:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20330356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunkelles/pseuds/sunkelles
Summary: Sansa Stark has been obsessed with the boy band "The Knights of Old" since she was eleven years old. She's promised that she was going to marry Loras Tyrell for about the same amount of time. She runs a stan account on twitter and refuses dates because she's "saving herself" for him. When Jeyne wins tickets for the two of them to go see the band and meet the knights themselves, Sansa realizes that her crush on Loras wasn't exactly what she thought it was.





	Stansa Stark and The Knights of Old

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. written for sansaery week: free day  
2\. the idea of sansa being a painter is lifted wholesale from my other recent modern sansaery au, "paint a new horizon"

Sansa Stark has always loved boy bands. Granted, that’s not much of a surprise for a teenage girl. But Sansa _loved _boy bands. Well, just one boy band, actually. She was a monogamous follower of _The Knights of Old._ She found them when she was eleven and fell in love. Five beautiful boys with beautiful faces and voices and dance moves that she had fun listening to and loved watching. Following their exploits became an obsession on par with painting. She did renditions of their album covers. Then she did individual portraits of each of the boys. 

Renly Baratheon, called “The Knight of Storms” in marketing material, was the band’s lead singer. She did Renly’s of him clutching his sword for dear life, his long black hair being whipped in all directions by a thunderstorm.

Gerold Dayne, called “Darkstar”, was the band’s bad boy. His arms, back, and legs are coated in tattoos, and he’s flipped off more than his fair share of paparazzi. His on and off again with actress Arianne Martell has kept the tabloids following them for years. She did Darkstar in black armor against a deep blue background with a single, bright white star lighting the way behind him. His lavender eyes almost glowed in the light.

Harry Hardyng, called “The Knight of Eagles”, was the band’s womanizer. Every other week the tabloids were emblazoned with pictures of Harry and his newest fling. She painted his of him flying atop an eagle through the sky.

Aegon Connington was simply called “The Prince” in band marketing. There was a well-documented rivalry between him and the band’s lead singer, Renly Baratheon, because Aegon has always wanted more of the spotlight. As a boy with Valaryian features, named after Aegon the Conqueror, who looks just like a prince out of a story of old? It’s hard for him not to take away some of Renly’s spotlight. In Aegon’s painting, he’s wearing a crown and flying a three headed dragon, just like his namesake once did.

Her favorite, of course, is Loras Tyrell. Called “The Knight of Flowers” in marketing, he’s the band’s pretty boy. Sansa’s in love, and has been since she found the band. She decided that day that she was going to marry Loras Tyrell and that there was nothing that anyone could do about it. Loras Tyrell is the only guy that she’d ever want to be with. While she’s only ever painted the others in group shots or that one set of portraits that she did, she’s painted Loras about a thousand times over. It’s easy to fixate on such a beautiful boy who’s always pictured with flowers. She posts pictures she paints of him to her twitter all the time. She follows all the band's promotional material, but she follows Loras religiously. 

The people in the twitter-sphere start to call her "Stansa Stark". She takes the name proudly and changes her handle to that. Her entire bio is "#marriedtolorastyrell". 

When she was eleven, everyone thought that it was cute and funny. She was a little kid with braces and a crush on a celebrity, so it was adorable. Now that she’s no longer eleven, people don’t find it as cute. Her parents worry that she’ll never get her head out of the clouds and try dating actual boys that she has an actual chance with. Her siblings find it creepy. Even Jeyne, who used to be right with her in Knights-Land doesn’t follow them the same way anymore. Jeyne still loves the band and she still runs her stan twitter account, but she doesn’t fixate on any of the individual boys any more. She says that she doesn’t need a fake boyfriend now that she has a real one. Frankly, if Sansa is being honest, she’d tell Jeyne that an imaginary boyfriend is better than a real one when the real one’s Theon Greyjoy.

But. She’s not a total asshole. So she generally doesn’t do that. She just saves herself for Loras Tyrell and runs her twitter account and fantasizes about meeting him some day. Senior year of high school passes mainly uneventfully as she runs her twitter and has fun with her friends and paints. She gets into her top choice of college: Alysanne Arts College in King’s Landing. The year is almost done when Jeyne wins The Knights of Old’s contest.

Winning this contest means that she gets to see a concert and then have a meet and greet with the band afterwards.

“Sans,” Jeyne says, “I get _two_ tickets. I’m taking you with!” Jeyne pauses for applause. Sansa feels frozen in place.

“Why aren’t you more excited?” _Isn’t that the question of the day? _Sansa thinks.

“I am,” Sansa says, and she feels like she should be, “this is going to be amazing!” She sings the last word, just the way that Loras always does in interviews, and Jeyne smiles at her.

“We’re gonna catch that boy for you,” Jeyne says, “then you’ll _actually _get to date Loras, just like you’ve always wanted.” Sansa feels a weird sense of dread settle in her stomach, and she doesn’t know why.

“This is what you always wanted, right?” Jeyne asks.

“Yes, of course,” Sansa says, “I’m just speechless. It’s a lot to take in, right?” Jeyne smiles.

“Yeah,” she says, “it’s a lot for me too. Can you believe that we’re going to be meeting _all _the boys?” Jeyne squeals a little.

“It sounds perfect,” Sansa says, sounding far less excited than she’d like, “I can’t wait.”

Sansa should be excited, but she’s not. The only thing that she can think about is the nervous feeling curling in her belly. She feels like something died in her stomach and is starting to rot.

Sansa’s actually going to _meet _Loras. How embarrassing will it be to try actually _talking_ to him? She’s fantasized about him falling in love with her a thousand times, but this is reality. It requires talking to people, and admitting that she has what basically amounts to a shrine to the guy in her closet, and well. That’s- that’s not going to be fun to talk about. She knows everything about him that she could glean from interviews over the years, but that’s not the same as knowing him.

She’s always just fantasized that it would happen, but she has no clue how to _make it_ happen. Or if she wants to make it happen. It had always seemed so glamorous and perfect back then, and it was a perfect way to reject boys who really would have been perfectly fine dates that her parents would have approved of. She still remembers when Robb’s friend Smalljon Umber took her to prom once sophomore year. Sansa thought that it was a favor to the collective that was JeyneandTheon, so that they would stop bugging him about Sansa not being able to go to prom with them. But then Smalljon asked her out, and she realized that it wasn't just a favor to Jeyne so that she would have a friend with her in the prom party. It was partially for himself. He was sweet, and frankly, he was cute. She should have liked him, probably, but she told him that she couldn’t date him because she was still holding out for Loras Tyrell.

What is _wrong _with her? She’s actually going to meet Loras today and well, she feels like her stomach is tied up like a string of fairy lights after a holiday. It’s not excitement; it’s dread.

Sansa feels Jeyne link their arms, and she’s pulled out of her stupor. The arena is filled nearly to the brim with pre-teen girls, chattering on about how excited they are to see their idols. At eighteen, Sansa and Jeyne look a little out of place. Jeyne’s wearing one of the first t-shirts that she ever got for the band since she stopped growing back in sixth grade. Sansa has had to get more and more new shirts over the years since she’s never stopped growing. At eighteen years old and five feet nine inches tall, she’s probably maxed her height out now. But who knows? 

Jeyne’s wearing a goofy pair of pink, heart shaped sunglasses, and Sansa reaches into her purse to pull out her matching pair. She turns her old Knight of Flowers baseball cap backwards so that she can see, and then realizes that she and Jeyne are almost at the front of the standing section despite the fact that most of the audience is four foot eight or under.

“Maybe we should stand at the back so these kids can see,” Sansa suggests.

“Yeah,” Jeyne says, “I actually feel _tall _in this crowd. I’m five foot nothing! I’m not supposed to feel _tall_!” Sansa giggles and the two make their way back to the very end of the standing section. There are a few dividers set up there to set the standing section apart from the seats behind them, and Sansa and Jeyne both lean casually against them so they can talk until the show starts.

Then, the lights come up. The guitars start, then the drums, and then Renly Baratheon starts singing. Sansa and Jeyne nearly jump forward off of the railing. The entire room is singing and dancing along to the familiar tunes, and finally, Sansa feels _excited _to be here. The energy is off the charts, and Sansa suddenly remembers why she’s spent so long stanning these boys- this group. It’s because their music makes her happy.

At the end of the show, Jeyne takes her by the hand so that they won’t get lost in the crowd and drags her towards the stage door. She flashes her “contest winner” badge at the security guard, and he escorts them backstage. It doesn’t feel as glamorous as Sansa expected, but it’s just the auditorium in White Harbor, not the Dragons Opera House in King’s Landing or anything. Even the coolest of celebrities have to occasionally deal with lackluster accommodations for their craft and their paycheck. As a future professional artist in a craft that’s far less lucrative than pop music is, Sansa understands that.

They work through the curvy black hallways, tailing the security guard. Then they see Renly in his tight, black jeans and his open golden, button up shirt. She wasn’t sure if he was wearing eyeliner before since they were so far away, but she knows for sure that he’s wearing some now. It kind of makes him look like that Dornish superstar Freddie Mercury.

“You must be Jeyne Poole,” Renly Baratheon says, pointing to Jeyne. Jeyne giggles a happy little giggle. Maybe she’s not _totally _over that crush.

“You know my name?” Jeyne asks. She sounds absolutely starstruck.

“Of course,” Renly says, “I have to keep track of our biggest fans.” _Or the names of the contest winners, _Sansa thinks wryly. Renly meets her eyes then.

“And Sansa Stark,” he says. The way that he says her name doesn’t have the same warmth to it as how he said Jeyne’s, but Sansa decides to ignore it. Whatever his issue is, Sansa doesn’t think she could fix it. She might even just be imagining it.

“I’m sure that you’ll want to meet the rest of the boys,” he says a little awkwardly. Jeyne nods aggressively.

“We have snacks and things set up in the dressing room,” he says, “it won’t be the most glamorous party, but I’m sure that we’ll all enjoy it.” The Knight of Storms leads them through the winding hallways of backstage, and eventually come to a small dressing room where all the other knights are lounging.

“These are our contest winners,” Renly says, gesturing towards Jeyne and Sansa. Jeyne waves awkwardly. Loras looks at her, and Sansa finds herself blushing a deep red. _What if he knows? _She thinks. Oh god, that would be so embarrassing. She doesn’t know how she would handle it if he knew.

“Go on,” Renly says, “introduce yourself.” Jeyne smiles and waves a little.

“I’m Jeyne,” she says, “I’ve been a big fan since I was like, eleven.” _Ten, actually, _Sansa thinks. Jeyne was still ten but Sansa was eleven when they started listening to the band together.

“Nice to meet you, Jeyne,” Harry Hardyng says, sending her a smile that looks almost flirty, “I’m sure you know all of _our_ names.”

“Don’t be an asshole, Harry,” Aegon says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh um, it’s not that asshole-ish,” Jeyne says, “we _do _know all your names.”

“Harry’s just reminding you that we’re famous because he doesn’t have a chance with women when they _don’t_ know that,”

"Wait. Was that flirting?” Jeyne asks. The entire room just sort of stares at her for a moment, and now it’s _Jeyne’s _turn to blush scarlet.

“I’m um, I’m sorry,” she says, “but I have a boyfriend.”

“Shame,” Harry says, then he turns his gaze to Sansa. 

“What about you?” he asks. Sansa feels her face heat, and she doesn’t even know how to make words happen.

“That’s Sansa Stark,” Renly says. Harry looks confused for a moment.

“You mean _Stansa Stark?” _

“Yes.”

“Welp,” Harry says, “not getting anywhere with either of you, am I?”

“I- yeah,” Sansa says, “no.” Harry stands up then, and gestures to his empty arm chair, right beside the one that Loras is currently sitting in.

“Would you like my chair, Miss Stark?” he asks, with a terrifying smirk.

“No thank you,” she says, but Harry’s already gesturing to the chair. She feels a light shove in the direction of the chair, and then turns around to see that it was Jeyne.

“Go on,” she stage-whispers, as if they’re not in a room surrounded by all the band members who can hear her, “this is your chance!”

“How about the rest of us go into the big dressing room?” Renly suggests, “I know Arianne and Marg are getting the party set up.” Jeyne smiles and she, Harry, and Aegon all follow Renly through the backdoor. That leaves her and Loras alone in the tiny little dressing room. Sansa looks down at her hands in her lap and tries to sink into the floor. If she thinks about disappearing hard enough, she will for real right?

“Hi,” Loras says.

“Hi,” Sansa replies. She starts picking at her cuticles. Seven, this is the most awkward that she’s ever felt.

“So you’re Stansa Stark, huh?” Loras asks.

“Yeah,” she says. She refuses to look up from her hands. Making eye-contact with Loras now that he knows that she’s claimed online for years and years to be in love with him and shouted her plans to marry him is too embarrassing. She can’t even imagine looking up right now.

“I’m flattered,” he says, and he does sound flattered, “its just- I’m in a relationship- a serious one. I know that it’s not public, but it’s important to me. I wouldn’t leave this person for anyone.”

“I didn’t know that you were dating anyone,” Sansa says. She should have said literally _anything _but that.

“Yeah,” Loras says, “it’s a secret. We can’t exactly make it public yet.” Sansa doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t know what she _could _say to that.

“I won’t tell anyone, I promise,” Sansa says. There’s no reason that Loras should trust a stranger who’s obsessed with him with this secret, but he has. She’s not going to break his trust on that. He’s still _Loras Tyrell. _Even if he’s never going to be her knightly groom. 

“I’m sorry that I have to turn you down,” he says, “I’m sure that you’re lovely, but I just can’t.” It feels like a little bit of the awkwardness in the atmosphere has dissipated. Sansa finds that she can look up now. She can actually meet his eyes.

“Thank you for telling me,” Sansa says, “you really- you didn’t have to be so gentle with me it. It was creepy how obsessed I was with you, wasn’t it?”

“Well,” Loras says, and she can see the blush creeping up his cheeks, “_yeah, _but it’s not like you’re the only one. You were actually quite nice about it. Most of the girls with an account like that make it clear how, um, _primal_ their feelings for me are.” Sansa had never made a sexual comment about Loras, not once. Never in all her years of obsessing over him.

“I’m actually really glad that you were taken,” Sansa says, “is that weird?” Loras doesn’t say anything.

“I don’t have a clue what I would have done if you’d have actually been interested,” Sansa says, “I felt like crawling under the floorboards when Harry was trying to flirt with me.”

“You know,” Loras says, “I think there’s someone you should meet.” Loras leads her into the actual bigger dressing room where the rest of the party is happening, and she catches sight of the rest of the band. She gets a proper introduction to Aegon Connington, meets Darkstar and Arianne Martell (what a two for one! Sansa feels like fainting) and then Loras finally leads her over to a girl who looks a lot like him. Her brown hair falls in perfect curls, she’s wearing a flowy, floral print shirt, and adorable white shorts.

“This is my sister, Margaery,” Loras says.

“So this is one of the contest winners?” Margaery asks.

“Yes,” Loras says, “this is Stansa Stark.” He realizes a moment after saying it that he got it wrong.

“Sorry,” he says, “_Sansa _Stark.”

“Stansa is my twitter handle,” Sansa says.

“Oh yes, don’t worry,” Margaery says, “I know _all _about you. You’re one of my brothers least crazy stalkers, I think.”

“I think that she’s the least crazy stalker I’ve ever had, actually. She was very chill about it when I told her I was taken. I think that she might actually stalk more your direction,” Loras says. Margaery’s eyes light up then. 

“Wait, you mean?”

Loras nods as he says, “I _do _mean. Have a good time, girls.” Then he winks. What does that even mean? Margaery laughs as he leaves, and Sansa’s left standing there feeling highly out of place.

“Wait,” Sansa says, “what just happened? What did he say?” _Stalk in your direction? _What does that even mean?

“Oh, that,” Margaery says, smirking, “Loras thinks that you’re a lesbian.”

“He what?”

“He thinks that you’re a lesbian,” Margaery says.

“I- I,” Sansa says, “what! Why!?!” No one’s ever accused her of being a _lesbian. _A weirdo, trailing after a celebrity who was never going to like her. A girl with her head in the clouds- a girl too stuck up to date the actual boys that she actually knew- but never a lesbian.

“Well, you’re this calm after being rejected, for one,” Margaery says.

“Being rejected was a relief, actually,” Sansa says.

“Not really helping your case, darling,” Margaery says, “straight girls don’t pine after some guy for years and then act relieved when they say they’re dating someone else.” That might be a fair point, but Sansa’s not about to just concede to it. Being relieved that Loras is seeing someone does not make her a lesbian. She has to _like girls_ to be a lesbian. That’s kind of a prerequisite, isn’t it?

“I’m not a lesbian,” she says nervously. She built her whole identity around loving _The Knights of Old_ and around being in love with Loras in particular. That’s not a very lesbian thing to do, is it?

“You’re only a lesbian if you say that you are one,” Margaery says, “but like, I think that it sounds like you might be.”

“What do you know about being a lesbian, anyway?” Sansa asks. It’s a rude thing to say, but Sansa’s feeling vulnerable and defensive, so she says it anyway.

“Well, I _am _one,” Margaery says, “I’d think that makes me an expert.” Sansa feels her cheeks heat up _again. _If Margaery’s a lesbian, does that mean that she’s flirting with her? Sansa pushes the thought away. Of course Margaery being a lesbian doesn’t automatically mean that she’s flirting with her. Lesbians don’t like every woman that walks just the same as straight girls don’t like every boy that walks.

Sansa thinks about it for a moment. She’s never actively wanted a boy to like her. Ever. She never wanted Smalljon or any of those other boys who chased after her in middle school or high school to like her, and she definitely didn’t want Harry to like her today. Even with Loras, the idea of her actually meeting him and him actually liking her made her sick.

She _wants _Margaery to like her, though. She thinks that juxtaposed against all the boys that she _didn’t _want to like her that probably means something.

“Okay so,” Sansa says, “maybe I _am _a lesbian.” Margaery grins and that's probably a good sign but- shit. It nearly stops her heart from beating. How do people deal with _feelings _like this? 

“Shit,” Sansa says, “how could I have missed this for all these years?” Suddenly, she feels like she’s been hit by a giant wave and swept into a sea of memories. All the girls that she’s “admired”- all the boys that she’s turned down over and over again because the idea of trying to date them made her ill. It all makes an overwhelming amount of sense now.

“We don’t see the things we don’t want to see,” Margaery tells her.

"Yeah," she says, "I guess you're right." 

“You do paintings, don’t you?” Margaery says.

"I do," Sansa says, "but how do you know that?"Aside from _The Knights of Old_, paintings are Sansa’s biggest thing.

"I try to follow most of the big names in the knights' fandom," Margaery says, "you're best known for your paintings. They're quite good."

"Thank you," Sansa says softly. She wishes that she could stop blushing today, but apparently her cheeks haven't gotten the memo that red shouldn't be their default color. 

“I’ve been working an internship here with the band manager this summer, and I’m planning on managing musicians of my own someday, after I get out of college. The boys have an album that’s coming out soon, and I feel like your style could make for a very good album cover.” An album cover. She’s been stalking Margaery’s brother on social media for years and now the girl wants her to do an album cover.

“Wait, for real?” Sansa asks.

“Of course,” Margaery says, “your style calls back a renaissance feeling- I think it would be a good way to reassert the knights’ aesthetic.”

“I would _love_ to paint the album cover,” Sansa says, “like, I know I’ll be in college next year so I won’t have as much time to just paint fun stuff, but I’m sure I’ll make it work.”

“College,” Margaery says, “where are you going?”

“Alysanne Arts College in King’s Landing,” Sansa says. Margaery’s eyes light up.

“Shit, that’s right across town from me!" she giggles, "I’m getting my PR and Communications degree at KLU!” Sansa’s heart nearly stops beating. Margaery Tyrell is going to _King’s Landing University?!?! For real!_

“Give me your phone,” Margaery says. Sansa’s not sure what it says about her that she hands her phone over without question or complaint. Margaery starts typing at light speed.

“I’m giving you my email for business purposes,” Margaery says, “and my phone number for personal reasons.”

“You should call me,” Margaery says, “and maybe, once you move to King’s Landing for college we can meet up. Maybe go on a date.” Sansa’s jaw drops so far she fears it may fall to the floor.

“But- don’t you have a girlfriend?” Sansa asks. She can’t imagine Margaery Tyrell being single.

“Sadly single at the moment,” Margaery says, “I was hoping that you could change that.” Holy shit- holy shit- HOLY SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!

“I, uh,” Sansa says, “yeah! Hope I can change that too! Gotta do my duty and all. Saving sad girls is in the knight’s code and all.” That was part of the code that the knights had put out with their first album as part of the marketing strategy.

“I hope it wouldn’t just be chivalry,” Margaery teases. At least, Sansa hopes that it’s teasing. Maybe she should play coy, or riff on chivalry somehow or- well. She doesn’t do any of that. Instead, she makes it clear how desperate she is.

“It wouldn’t, I promise! Calling you would be a- a pleasure!” Sansa chirps. She thinks that her volume is much too loud and that she’s much too eager, but _holy shit. _She’s just realized that she’s a lesbian and she’s already got a maybe-sorta girlfriend. That’s overwhelming in the best sort of way.

“I’ve got to head back to the hotel,” Margaery says, “we have an early flight to Maidenpool and I can’t function with too little sleep.” She picks up Sansa’s hand then, and kisses it just like the boys do in interviews: another part of the code. A true knight must always kiss a fair maiden’s hand. That part of the code was a third of the reason why she thought that she was in love with Loras in the first place. Sansa feels a flock of butterflies take flight in her chest.

“It was very nice to meet you, Sansa,” she says, sending Margaery a grin that could melt even the coldest hearts.

“I’ll call you,” Sansa manages to say. Then, Margaery floats out of the room then and Sansa swears that she can smell her rose perfume floating away with her. It’s not even half a minute later that Jeyne makes her way over with wide eyes.

"Did you just bag the wrong Tyrell sibling?” Jeyne asks. 

“I, uh,” Sansa says, “yeah. I think I did.” She’s never felt better about changing course in her entire life. Her entire body feels light and fuzzy and excited. She thinks this is what being “head over heels” feels like.

“That’s hilarious,” Jeyne says. She does her best to sling her arm over Sansa’s shoulder, but as always, the height difference makes it so it’s basically just Jeyne's hand.

“You are the weirdest, luckiest person that I’ve ever met,” Jeyne says, “you go for the pop star knight and then get his princess sister instead. How did you manage this?”

“I have no clue, honestly,” Sansa says.

“I have to get through a whole semester of Bolton’s college level torture A&P class to get a boyfriend, but you chat up one girl and suddenly you’re the queen of the lesbians. You’re insane, Sans.” Sansa smiles softly.

“You’re pretty cool yourself, Jeyne,” Sansa says. "Who actually wins free concert tickets with backstage passes? I couldn’t be queen of the lesbians without you.” Jeyne smiles.

“You’re absolutely right you couldn’t,” she says, taking out her keys. “Now get in the car. I am _dead _tired and it’s a twenty-minute drive back to my aunt’s house.”

Sansa and Jeyne spend the night in White Harbor with Jeyne’s aunt and uncle. Then, they drive the two hours back to Winterfell the next morning. When Sansa gets there she tells her mother that the show was amazing and that she’ll tell them all about it at dinner tonight. Then she locks herself in her room to take care of some business.

She turns on her phone and pulls up twitter. She deletes “#marriedtolorastyrell” from her bio. She adds “#knightsofbold” instead. Then, Sansa searches Margaery in her contacts, to no avail. She tries “Tyrell” then, only to find that Margaery put her number is as “The Hotter Tyrell”. Sansa laughs and dials the number. Tonight, she’ll tell her family about what happened, but right now she’s not thinking about anyone but Margaery. She thinks that they’ll have a lot to talk about.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope that you guys liked it! i was thinking about how some lesbians i know have said that they fixate on a single, unattainable and safe male celebrity to stave off male attention either consciously or subconsciously. i thought that running with this idea with sansa and loras could be cool and be a great way to start a sansaery fic <3


End file.
